Legends of Belariath
Nadine
“Tell me a story.”
The first words that he had spoken in well over a week. Nadine’s deep blue eyes closed, her thick lashes making dark crescents above her cheeks. Her thin pale fingers idly toyed with his fur while his large hand casually stroked the curve of her plump breast. The fire was dying out and it stretched odd shadows up and down the tall walls of the cave that they had labored to turn into something livable. For Ahrak, it was more than enough. The half-breed needed little more than a place out of the wind. Nadine however was human. For her, this was a sacrifice made out of love. One that she had made for over four years now.
“There are wisemen who say that deep in the earth, a great dragon sleeps. Its talons are made of molten gold. It has scales of lava and flame and its eyes are as dark as ash. But, this is not a story about the dragon. This is a story about the dragon’s dream…”
…A few hours later, Ahrak was curled up by the embers of the fire, sound asleep under the pelts that made up their bed. Nadine had not found the same peace. As much as she loved him, she could not live like this. She needed People. She needed to see life happening. It happened all around her in a million little ways. But, the lives of the forest and the animals that called her home were not rich enough. They were programmed by simple instincts, elementary needs. They lacked the freewill that created relationships, brewed drama and created such elegant chaos that it could entrance her for hours.
Nadine had been born the last daughter to the priestess of a nomadic tribe that had once called the valleys around Nanthalion their home. Being the youngest of many children had its blessings and its curses. She was practically invisible which meant that she was rarely deterred from her interests but often left alone for long stretches of time. As she grew, Nadine studied a great many things. Mostly, she studied the people around her. She quickly discovered that she had a gift for cutting through a person’s exterior to peer and poke at the soul within, discovering hidden virtues and hungers that often her subjects were not even aware of.
Then she met Ahrak, a gruff male born of a wolven and a catling. He told her to her face that he thought she was ugly; hairless and gangly and relying too much on words. The girl didn’t care. Somehow, she knew that Ahrak was the one steady thing that she could depend on. He would be the anchor that would keep her still in the maddening sea of hidden desires and other peoples’ problems. She Would Have Him. It was only a matter of time…
That seemed to be ages ago. She felt old and detached. Most of all, she felt guilty for needing more than Ahrak had given her these past few year.
Finally, she felt the wolcat watching her in the darkness and she spoke softly, “Ahrak… I need to go home.”
The very next day, her feet were set on the path leading back to the Lonely Inn and Ahrak’s promise to join her in a few days time was all the comfort she needed for the trip.